Comin' Down to the Basement
by binkeybella
Summary: Tony and his boss finish out the crazy day in Gibbs's basement. Sequel to "Lessons Learned".


**A/N: Okay, this is absolutely the last in this series of one-shots. I swear. But I had a late morning, an afternoon, and I needed to finish the day. So here it is. Thank you, honey Bunny! **

**(PS: to the anonymous reviewer who asked about the Papa Smurf reference. I think I recall sometime Abby calling him that in the series - maybe not - but Harmon's 'kids' call him that on the set, so I decided to steal it.)**

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><p>Tony leaned back in Gibb's old dining room chair and groaned in pleasure as he rubbed his stomach.<p>

"That was great, Boss, thanks."

"You're welcome, and quit rockin' back on that chair before ya break it." Tony sat back up abruptly and Gibbs stood and gathered their dishes. "Gonna go work on the boat, join me or watch a movie if you want."

"I'll join ya, too tired for a movie tonight."

"Fine, grab a beer if you don't want bourbon."

"I'll just finish what I got."

"Left-over cheesecake in the fridge that needs to be eaten up. Grab a fork for it, I'll be right down."

Five minutes later Gibbs ambled down to his basement and found Tony sitting up against the wall of the steps, eating cheesecake out of the pan.

"You ARE gonna save some of that for me." Gibbs stopped and looked down at him. Not a request or suggestion.

"Yeah, couple more bites and it's yours. Kinda rich after all the crap I ate earlier."

"No kiddin'!" Gibbs stood over Tony and waited for him to shovel in his last mouthful before he handed the pan up to his boss.

"Could use some fruit on top, but..."

Gibbs harrumphed and yanked the fork out of his SFA's hand, then went and leaned against the boat to finish off what was left of it in four big mouthfuls. He tossed the pan and fork onto the workbench and poured out a small glass of bourbon for himself before starting work. He labored in silence for a while, getting his thoughts together, letting dinner and dessert settle a bit. He glanced over at his guest to find him staring at him.

"So why'd ya DO it, DiNozzo?"

"Do what, Boss?"

"Take your pick. Come in late. Screw around all morning. Come back late from lunch."

"Dunno, just - some days are like that."

Gibbs went back to work while he talked, grabbing up a C-clamp and some glue. "You KNOW it's gonna end bad, but you do it anyways, why?" There was no hint of anger in his voice, just puzzlement.

"Cause sometimes I…sometimes I can't handle coloring inside the lines all the time. There's still a part of me that-"

"Needs to act like a spoiled child?"

"Maybe. More like needs to pretend life isn't so serious and screwed up. So seriously screwed up."

Gibbs paused with the clamp in his hand. Was there something new eating at his agent and he didn't see it? "Your life in particular or life in general?"

"Everybody's life," he replied simply. "It's getting cold, you still got that sleeping bag down here?"

Gibbs reached under a bench and pulled out a rolled up bag and a pillow, and tossed them over to Tony, nearly knocking him over with the unexpected throw. The younger man smoothed over his ruffled locks.

"Thanks, Boss," he mumbled, and proceeded to roll out the bag and crawl inside, flopping down on his stomach and clutching the pillow with both arms. Gibb's mind flashed back to one of Kelly's slumber parties, and he slammed the window shut and took a slug of bourbon.

"Boss, how did you know Linda and Michelle were over visiting me on the stairs, I SWEAR I didn't talk to them."

"They had to have heard me yellin' at ya, figured they'd be over to offer their sympathy. Didn't figure on 'em bringing you dessert or I would've nipped THAT in the bud."

"Well, technically, you never SAID I couldn't EAT, Boss.'"

"Nope, I didn't."

Tony groaned and turned his head to the side. "Man, I shouldn't have eaten this much today, must be that time of the month."

"DiNozzo..."

There was silence for awhile, blessed silence, and then Tony spoke up again.

"I wasn't trying to piss you off today, Boss, just…sometimes it comes over me and I can't stop myself. Like, I'm outside of my body, watching myself acting like that but-"

"You can't stop yourself," Gibbs finished for him, a bit of a chuckle in his voice.

"Yeah." Tony sighed. "You really got Fornell fired up about Sacks, I think you embarrassed him."

"Yeah, well, he SHOULD be, lets him mouth off to fellow agents the way he does and then lets him get away with it."

"You know what I think, Boss?"

"No, Tony, not right at this MOMENT, I don't."

"I think that Slacks is jealous of me, that's why he's always in my face."

"'Cause you're the best SFA in the agency?"

"Er...no." Tony stumbled and Gibbs smiled to himself about the unexpected compliment. "Cause I'm YOU'RE SFA. I mean, Fornell's cool, but well, it's like the difference of say, Columbo and Rockford. Columbo's got his own style and everything, but - he just doesn't compare to Rockford. I mean - what kid wants to tag along with Columbo when he could have Jim Rockford teaching him the ropes?"

Gibbs had to stop his clamping and gluing for a few moments and get his bearings. He just never knew what was going to come out of DiNozzo's mouth. This particular musing had him a bit ferklempt. He cleared his throat and tried to sound casual.

"Could be, DiNozzo. He's probably just a bully, though. Don't know why he'd be jealous of you having me for a boss, I'm worse than Fornell on my best day."

"Hmmmffff," Tony muffled into his pillow. "You keep saying that, Boss, but I'm telling ya, he's jealous. He'd trade places with me in a hot New York minute."

"Pretty strong words coming from somebody whose boss embarrassed him in front of the entire MTAC floor."

"Yup, like I said, I deserved it. You play, you pay." There was a long pause, and Gibbs thought maybe Tony had fallen asleep, but then he heard laughing.

"What's so funny, DiNozzo?"

"He called you Papa Smurf. That's what Abby and I call you behind your back."

"I know."

"It's really a - a token of affection, Boss, we - we don't -"

"I know," Gibbs repeated, a little more loudly. He knew he was feeling more than a little indulgent with his SFA, 'cause DAMN, the kid had taken his lumps without whining or complaint, and then THANKED him for it.

When Tony had gone to the men's room after his 'time out' that afternoon, Gibbs wasn't at all sure that DiNozzo wasn't writing his letter of resignation in his head. He really wouldn't have blamed him. And yet, here was Tony now, keeping him company in his basement, and BRAGGING about having him for a boss. Nobody could turn a crappy situation on its head like DiNozzo.

"Whataya want for breakfast tomorrow, DiNozzo?"

"Hhmmm" into the pillow again. Tony was sated, both with food and his boss's version of affection, and that made him drowsy and content. "The works, Boss. Bacon, eggs, pancakes. I'll help. Wake me up when you get up."

"I get up at 0600 on Saturday mornings, DiNozzo."

"Yeah, but I'm going to bed NOW. You're not. Goo' night, Boss."

"Night, Tony."

Leaving the clamps and glue to do their job, Gibbs took up the hand sander and found the spot he hadn't finished the last time he'd worked on the boat. Within moments, he had his rhythm, and he heard Tony's breathing lengthen and quiet along with it.

He smiled to himself, realizing that he must instinctively know how to lasso in and 'gentle' - not tame - his bronco SFA. He never wanted to really tame DiNozzo, at least not to the point of breaking his spirit. But he knew the kid needed clear, hard boundaries, and he knew now that he was the one to draw them, even if Tony DID sometimes color outside the lines.


End file.
